


absence.

by rainyri0t



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rated teen and up for language, but yeah, daryl's turned into a Fuckin Softie (kinda), idk man im just realy emotional about desus, paul is a Sad Man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-18 06:03:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11285184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainyri0t/pseuds/rainyri0t
Summary: Loving somebody that struggles with the same things that you do is almost comforting.





	absence.

You’re good at a lot of things. You’re good at picking locks ( and picking pockets ), you’re good at spinning lies and you’re more than well versed with martial arts and parkour. You also happen to be good at crafting personas.

You’re bad at a lot of things, too. You’re bad at emotional intimacy ( if anything, you’re afraid of it ), you’re bad at being present in people’s lives, and you’re bad at keeping stable relationships. 

Thank God that he’s bad at all the things that you are.

Daryl Dixon is the last person that you had expected to end up falling for. After all, you two are polar opposites. You -- meaning Paul, not Jesus -- are snarky, sarcastic, and flirty. Daryl’s silent, stoic, and ( on his good days ) a huge buzzkill. He was the last person you’d expect to break down your walls and move past your persona. Your past boyfriends, both before and after the world practically ended, never bothered. You were simply too much for them to handle. The hunter, however, broke your walls down piece by piece with ease. It almost pisses you off. 

Still, loving somebody who struggles with the same things that you do is almost comforting. 

 

The relationship is.. well, difficult. Part of this is because you both suck at conveying emotion to one another, but it’s mainly because of the distance. You stay with the Hilltop Colony and he stays with Alexandria. It makes sense, sure, but it kills you sometimes. Still, you make your visits infrequent. You’ve been told before that you’re too much, that you’re too neurotic, that you’re too clingy. You want Daryl to have space; after all, he seems to be the type of man that needs it. 

He mentions your absence to you the next time you visit. 

You’re both sitting on the roof of his house in Alexandria ( “The fuck’s up with you and roofs?” ). You’re staring up at the sky and he’s staring at you, though you don’t notice this until he speaks up. “You don’t come by very often.” 

The comment catches you by surprise, but you don’t look away from the sky. “No, I don’t,” you reply with a light shrug. “I’ve been busy, I guess.” This is a lie -- ever since the war had ended, things in all communities involved had been fairly calm. You had been busy with runs that other people could’ve easily taken on, with chores that could’ve waited. “You know how it goes.”

You’re not busy and Daryl knows this, but he doesn’t say anything about it. Instead, he just nods. “Yeah.” He hums a bit. “Yeah, I know how it goes.” 

The two of you fall silent and you’re forced to think a bit. Daryl had sounded almost disappointed and you really don’t blame him because you’re probably one of the worst people to be in a relationship with. It’s not that you’re a bad boyfriend -- you try to be the best you can be -- but you’re… you’re just.. 

..you’re afraid. You’re afraid of getting close to anybody because you’re also afraid of losing them. That, and you’re out of practice. You’ve slid on a mask and hid behind a persona for most of your life both before and after the end of the world started and you’ve never been fully present as just Paul Rovia. You’ve always been there as Jesus and the thought of being there without this crutch terrifies you. But God, life is too fucking short and you’re just now fully realizing this as you sit by Daryl Dixon -- of all people! -- and gaze at the starlit night sky. 

You love Daryl ( you think ) and life is too short to not take chances. 

And so, you take a chance. ‘

“...do you want me to come by more?” The question is hardly audible and you wouldn’t be surprised if Daryl didn’t hear it ( or if he just ignored it all together ), but you know that he heard you because you can see him looking at you out of the corner of your eye. He’s looking at you and you’re afraid to make eye contact because you’re afraid of seeing the “are-you-kidding-me” look in his eyes, the “you’re-so-clingy-give-me-space” look. 

“What kind of question is that?” You almost shrink into yourself before he continues. “Of course I do. You’re my.. y’know.” Daryl still doesn’t say “boyfriend”, but you’re okay with that. You’re okay with a lot of things. “I worry when I don’t hear from you for weeks at a time.” 

“Something about this feels reversed,” you murmur. You curse yourself for trying to derail the conversation. “I mean, aren’t I supposed to be the emotionally rational one?” Daryl’s still looking at you. You try to will his gaze away and, when that doesn’t work, you sigh and take another chance. You look back at him. You make eye contact. 

“I’m sorry for being… well, distant.” You sigh a bit. “I’m just --I’m not the best at these things, y’know? I’m out of practice.”

“That makes the both of us,” he says. There’s a faint hint of a smile touching his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> ALRIGHT! This is my first Desus fic and it was really fun to write! Feel free to leave a comment and yell at me on Tumblr ( eternalbedhead.tumblr.com )!!


End file.
